Sherly' Holmes
by HalocraZze
Summary: She checks her pulse - gotta know if her heart's still beating. Not in this life. Maybe in another. Not only J.M can wear Vivienne Westwood just perfectly-
1. Prologue?

**'****_Sherly_****' Holmes**

**- PROLOGUE - ...?**

The door to the old '_apartment complex_' – or better known as 221 B Baker Street, was opened without a key. You didn't need a key to 'unlock' the sorry excuse of a safety measure which only purpose it was to keep unauthorized people –or just those without a matching key to it- outside. But there was no need for it anyway and the door carelessly fell back and closed again after letting an 'unauthorized' person slip into the building.

Although this was how practically every damn fan fiction about 'Sherlock' started, the person made it's way down the empty hallway –she couldn't care less about that little fact and hence did not; care, that is.

"Mrs. Hudson!"

The voice echoes from old stone walls and earned them a rather cold frown of the 'intruder'.

-No response.

Her weary legs hurried to the staircase with vast steps and only came to a halt in front of the newest paper and a package neatly stacked on top of it. Checking for interesting articles, she slid past the stairs and headed to the right where a single door was shutting off another room.

She didn't bother knocking and just carelessly tossed the newspaper through the tiny vent underneath the door after finding nothing of interest. Slightly bending down with her legs still completely straight, she took a closer look at the package in an almost attempt to shove it through as well. Just eyeing the pretty obvious difference in their size, she gave the door a glare and turned around as fast as she had paced to that old lady's flat and already made her way upstairs.

Her steps were strangely fast and steady despite her lean legs, which took them two at a time without looking in the slightest bit brutish; although the old wood made dangerous creaking noises under each and every step she took.

The small, yet heavy package firmly in her grip, she stopped on top of the few over a dozen steps -16 to be precise- and briefly gave the door in front of her a light, yet forceful knock with her right hand.

-No response.

A second was all she gave them.

A soft frown crept up her forehead and she took a glimpse around in search for something like a spare key, since she obviously didn't own one for herself.

A slight kick to the wooden covers on the lower border of the wall left to the door and a tiny crack inside the bricks appeared. Giving the perfect hiding place for their spare key another cold look, she clicked her tongue without even checking the 'secret' hidey hole and grabbed the doorknob firmly as she gave it a slight twist to the right while pulling on it at the same time.

-Of course not.-

She thought for herself slightly shaking her head to the hole in the wall while tearing at the doorknob and pressing her foot up and against the lower edge of the door until she herself thought it might break.

A soft 'click' made her stop and let a satisfied smirk twitch over her features as she let the door slide open inwards practically by itself and invited herself inside the room ahead casually.

-Works every damn time.-

Closing the door behind her without a sound, she let her cold gaze wander around the mess of a room she now stood in.

She listened to the old flat for a moment until she heard what she had searched for, when a rattling sound came from where the kitchen was and made her smile ridiculously appeased with her index fingers pointing upwards almost in a right-proving fashion. Whoever it was she wanted to prove right about whatever needed to be proven right at that moment...

"Ah."

She uttered shortly before she decided to walk in on the other person beside her in the flat and let her slim feet lead her way to the direction in which other, louder footsteps landed on the cork-wood floor.

"Mrs. Hudson, there you are."

She stated matter off-factly to no one in particular and slightly loosened the woolen leaf-greenish scarf around her neck and angular chin so it wasn't covering her sharp jaw line anymore.

"Oh dear."

A much lighter and more surprised voice sounded along with the sight of the 'supposed to be' kitchen, in which a petite lady in her late fifties – maybe early sixties stood with an expectant look on her elegant face.

"It's been a while hasn't it? How did you even – never mind."

The lady muttered with her expression changing after every sentence she said to the person in front of her, who only gave her a nonchalant look at her still expecting gazes.

She knew that the lady was eyeing her coat in a way that told her she was wondering when or if her visitor would take it off to get more comfortable for she could easily make herself at home since she was here already and all.

The younger of them only gave her a rejecting look accompanied by an almost non-existent shake of her head before she closed her eyes almost apologetically in front of her former landlady's slightly disappointed frown, which she showed her quite obviously.

Still eyeing the younger woman's matte, army-green zipped up slim fit duffle coat, Mrs. Hudson replied to her brief look around the room since her 'visitor' wouldn't bother asking the question directly herself.

"Oh dear-"

The lady started and caused an almost knowing frown to irk on her visitor's face as she paused while taking off the latex gloves –which she obviously wore for the purpose of doing some cleaning- before she continued, now directly facing the younger woman.

"I'm afraid he's gone out. I don't now where to – and when he planned to come back – if he even plans something though."

She had gotten distracted by her own thoughts and snapped out of it again at another look of the woman still standing in the doorway.

"He might not make it by tonight."

The lady continued since she already knew the other's question and simply went ahead to answer it for her on the spot.

"I'm sorry, dear."

Mrs. Hudson sincerely added repetitively at the visitor's sightly let down frown.

The woman walked up to the kind lady and handed the package –which was meant for her to receive- and nodded Mrs. Hudson's thank you-smile off with a don't mention it-look, before she walked past her and opened the fridge casually.

-No reaction.

She closed it immediately at first glance inside and turned back to face the elderly lady again.

There was nothing special in it.

No extraordinary bloody body parts and chemicals, neither remnants of his latest 'experiments', nor anything edible.

"Alright."

She loosened the tense silence and hence broke it as she continued properly talking to the petite landlady now.

"It's my turn this month, might as well go buy some other stuff like tea – for instance-"

She added with a look of a speedy idea shooting up behind her dark eyelashes for the breach of a second before she continued.

"Anything you need?"

The landlady thought about her offer for a moment and gave a reply to her inquiring look that seemed slightly out of place on the woman's young face.

"I'm fine, thank you. But how about some tea indeed? I'm sure Sherlock would treat you to some if he wasn't –you know- strolling around the city doing god knows what."

The younger of them silently nodded in agreement about that last part and looked at Mrs. Hudson again.

"I'm sure he wouldn't."

She let her first attempt of an actual smile flash her face and only earned a sadly understanding nod.

"So sorry to bother you with all this, if he only knew how much you went out of your way every time..."

Mrs. Hudson stopped midway shaking her head in disapproval at the thought of her 'little boy'.

"It's fine."

The short reply of the younger woman caused the heartwarmingly smile on the lady's face to grow even further.

"We agreed to this and it's my turn this time around. It's not like I could change it anyways-"

She waved it off with her eyes confidently closed and cut the other off while she was taking her breath to speak against her.

"He's not earning money and it doesn't bother me actually."

She reassured the other, not really convincing her though.

"Oh dear, have you been working overtime again?"

Mrs. Hudson's kind words shortly let the confident look on her visitor's face fade into a surprised chuckle, before she spoke up more enthusiastically.

"It's alright, I got a bit left over, so I might as well go buy Sherlock his tea."

Avoiding her question skillfully, she made her way out of the kitchen again. Not able to say anything to the younger female's kind 'order' not to dig deeper into that matter, Mrs. Hudson watched her leave the way she came.

"Do bother dropping by every one in a while, would you."

Her kind offer was underlined with the sadly demanding look only a grandmother could show their grandchildren when she saw them off.

The woman turned around to her in the doorframe and shook the lady's hand after giving her a reassuring smile behind closed lips as she tightened the scarf around her collar.

"Thanks for the package-"

Mrs. Hudson let out after her as the door fell shut behind her visitor and cut off the soft chuckle with the sound.

A deep sigh escaped the elderly lady as she took a last glimpse of the woman's gracefully wrapped back with her own hand still reaching out after the polite, yet cold gesture of a mere handshake, before the door separated her lean silhouette from the older lady's concerning look.

The young female only walked her way down the 16 steps, the same way she had come skidding up a few minutes prior.

Not taking them two at a time now though.

Her heels were clacking on the corridor once again as she left the building to leave it behind with her hands deeply stuffed into the pockets of her perfectly fit coat and headed for the closest supermarket nearby.

She knew all too well what it was like to be the one being left behind at home with the door falling shut right in someone's face.

And she knew how it had to have felt for Mrs. Hudson at this moment.

She avert her cautious gaze off the street and looked up and watched her breath rise up and form a white cloud as it floated up to the pearl white sky in midwinter over London.

**/ PROLOGUE – END /**

**And here I am again, might just be another story I start writing all eager to continue, but then drop it once again.**

**Feels like that's becoming another nasty habit of mine...**

**Anyway- I do hope you liked this one and are ready for at least a few more chapters coming up in this month -or so.**

**This time, I found myself being unable to type the word 'door' correctly.**

**Resulting in a few (countless) errors saying the expression ****_dorr_**** could not be found in any dictionary in that context...Well- props to you, ****_Word Office._**

**_With your heart open wide - A.N ~_**


	2. Chapter 1 - An offer you can't decline

**'_Sherly_' Holmes**

**- Chapter 1 - **

**- An offer you can't decline -**

The tall man was waiting in front of the glass of a shopping center and looked through the large window past the reflection of his own dark grey suit into the shop, while twirling the black umbrella casually in his right hand. It hadn't rained the past two days, he knew. But he held it with a confidence that instantly told you at first glance that he didn't care about that. He was waiting another few moments before he decided to step inside himself since the one he expected to com walking out of the door and right into him sure took their time. Walking through the almost empty sections, he went past the few 'peasants' that turned to look at him with obviously disapproving eyes, since they had no idea who he actually was - that and the fact that his suit looked rather expensive.

Turning around a shelf full of diffenrent kinds of snacks and party drinks, he came to a halt as he saw his target standing in front of the instant coffee and tea packages neatly stacked on their right place.

She didn't bother turning to look at him although he was sure she had to have seen him from the corner of her sharp eyes, that were sternly locked on a particular flavour of roiboos tea.

He let her take the time she needed to think about which one she should pick in a way too concentrated fashion, knowing she wasn't too much of the patient type of woman.

His eyes gazed over to her to eye her from head to toe. Finally raising her index finger to the cheaper package on the shelf slightly higher up than her eye level, he decided to speak up.

"Not wasting money on trivial things, are we?"

He let his words cut through the silence with an almost condescending tone. Despite her obvious wealth judging from her dark grey dree from the 'Anglomania' collection by no other that Vivienne Westwood, it didn't quite fit the picture since the young woman stood in a supermarket, grocery-shopping on low budget.

She didn't let her eyes wander over to him and didn't hesitate to give him a proper reply.

"It's the mildest in flavour."

Her clear words made the much taller man frown inquiringly. As if she had seen him do that although her eyes were now locked on a green tea packet, she answered calmly.

"The sweetest one of all of them, see?"

She still didn't bother looking at him directly, so he took his time to further 'inspect' her starting from her slim feet that securely stuck in a pair of black wedge heel pumps, which seemed way too high for the situation she was in and judging from his liking as well.

"So it must be for Sherlock then, since you yourself prefer drinking the stronger types."

The man started looking at the green tea at the right of her head, before he continued with a condescending smirk spreading almost invisibly over his straight features.

"If it is even tea...and not something more - well voluminous?"

The woman instantly understood what her was referring to and finally turned her head to face him since what he had 'suggested' was her being fond of alcohol and a stranger like him couldn't even dare to simply make that up.

"You could be more wrong about that."

Her sharp words were followed by a quiet sneer at his sight in front of her and the fact of him still being a lot taller than her despite her twelve centimeter heels.

A wave of knowledge overcame him as his eyes first flashed to her face, her neck and then her hands like the was the camera setting changed in a good action movie - only a bit faster.

"I'd like to make an offer."

He said nonchalantly, stretching out his hand with a look down at her, whereas her gaze up to him turned cold.

"Why would you get the idea I'd be fitting the job to sell out Sherlock Holmes?"

She knew what he had been aiming for and earned a stern look at her dangerously cheeky reply to the question -or rather 'offer'- he hadn't yet formed on his lips.

"Be reassured."

He further expanded his arm.

"You'd be perfectly fine."

The man continued, giving her a condescending look as he eyed her business-like dressing style and then smirked in approval.

"You're mistaken, I am not what you'd call 'fitting' for a 'job' that gets me to sit around practically doing nothing."

Her sharp tongue made a silent hiss as she noticed him trying to speak up against her.

"Just because I would, doesn't mean I _will_ be fine as your 'assistant'."

There was the briefest hint of a smile hidden behind the facade she out up nicely.

"Oh, don't you worry."

The images of the lean woman were flashing in front of his eyes again and gave away that not only this dress cost a fortune, but her face as well could have sold well - if she wanted it to - that is. Just as she wanted to reply with a - _what makes you think my dress makes me a perfect fit?_ - he continued and leant down in front of her face, still staying as lithic as ever.

"Believe me when I tell you that I can be persistent. There's another _client' of mine that you should -by no means- be affiliated with, but as I can see - not only men like wearing a good old Westwood Suit."

A smirk spread over his cold face as he gave the younger of them a silent wink that you almost couldn't take seriously.

"That so-called '_client' _of yours should wake my interest."

She merely said, straightened her lean shoulders and firmly grabbed his hand as he shook it approvingly.

With her sharp gaze locked with his dark blue eyes, that held a lingering hint of sophistication, she cocked her head to the side and let go off his strong hand as soon as she found it to be fitting and turned around to leave -as gracious as ever.

She tilted her head one step from the door, after paying for the package of sweet tea and few more ingredients and sent the tall man a neutral look.

"This client-"

She started and deepened her gaze.

"Send him my regards, '_Sir_' Mycroft Holmes."

She shot him a cheeky smirk that refreshingly loosened up her blank facade and swayed out of the shop. A mere second later, she was gone and left the tall man standing in the supermarket rows with his hands casually inside his pockets and the umbrella playfully dangling from his neatly covered wrist.

With that, his target was gone and left him behind with a silent compromise both of them were sure the other could not decline.

** - Chapter 1 -**

**- An offer you can't decline -**

**- END -**

**Thanks for putting up with me for round 2. (the second chapter published - and the actual first chapter to this story, that is ;) )**

**I very well know that I have most probably chosen the worst kind of name ever imaginable to this kind of fan fiction - but believe me, it's not like that by accident. Feel free to send me some reviews once you're at it, see you next time.**

**Btw. who spotted the lyric references in this one? Or the J.M one?**

**Anyway - Catch you later I think?**

**_With my heart open wide_ - _A.N _~**


	3. Chapter 2 - Introducing HER

**'_Sherly_' Holmes**

**- Chapter 2 -**

**- Introducing HER -**

It was 15:57 and the clouds up above London had formed a menacingly grey carpet that hid the sun and buried the city underneath, making the mid-afternoon look as if it was already late in the evening.

The streets were almost completely empty and it didn't look like the usually busy town at all, without its inhabitants swarming and buzzing all over the place like ants.

A strong wind had started to ghost through the empty alleys and sidewalks and only the clock on the church tower made an even louder noise as it rang 04:00 pm sharp.

The clacking of a pair of matte black high heels was making its way down the pavement and along Baker Street.

She didn't care that the biting cold crept up her sleeves and neck and the wind tore at her frame that almost looked like a sinking match in the ocean. With long strides, the lean woman let her thin legs walk past the closed off shops to her right as she looked up to the overcast sky and slowed down subconsciously.

Her eyes were locked on the spot where the sun tried shining through from far behind and created a circle that lit up the clouds and colored them in pure white. She squinted her eyes at the sudden 'impact' that had caused her to flinch as a single raindrop fell right on her forehead and slowly made its way down from her nose to her cold lips and her chin, from where it finally fell to meet with its next and last stop; the ground.

And with that, many other raindrops followed, leaving the woman to stand in the steadily increasing rainfall that soon turned into a pretty hard downpour. She closed her eyes as if she wanted to take imaginary shelter from the cold rain that almost seemed like an 'ocean', emptying itself right on her dark hair.

As she opened them again and blinked away the urge to shut them whenever a drop reached her face, she let out a deep sigh, picked up the pace and literally flew through the rain with a silent chuckle escaping her crooked lips.

With the two shopping bags dangling from her elbow, it was rather difficult to hold an umbrella - not that she had brought one with her actually.

One hand on the doorknob and the other to 'unlock' the door to the old building next to the small café, she let herself inside, surprised to find it open already. A small frown formed on her forehead as she searched the floor for any signs of another 'intruder'. Finding that nothing looked different compared to when she herself had 'trespassed' about six hours ago - well five and a half - the young woman made her way curiously up the stairs for the second time this day.

Was it just her or did it really seem like someone else had come up the exact same staircase just an hour ago?

She could figure out a scent that lingered around the air around her, she couldn't recognize it but it had a familiar touch to it - a man.

Straightening her back, she was once again facing the door at the end of the stairs and quietly opened it the same way as earlier this day, ready to be confronted with an unfamiliar person to whom the smell belonged.

-It took less effort than the first time.

Holding her breath subconsciously, the woman stepped through the entrance to the flat and decided to just walk in on whoever was 'waiting' for her. Still as quiet as ever, she made an attempt to waltz in and slammed the door shut behind her back - actually without making any sound.

She found what she sought for at first glance around the room and tossed her bags to the side to hold herself better, since she was facing a person that actually cared for 'trivial' things such as how you made your 'entrance'.

And there he was, sitting on his favorite armchair with his feet curled up under himself, his dark locks messy as ever and his arms wrapped around his upper body; the same way he always used to sit around all 'spaced out'.

To her surprise, the tall looking man in the right corner of the room lifted up his head and looked straight at his 'visitor' from a few meters away. He usually never bothered to give strangers and commoners even the slightest look of awareness telling them he indeed knew they were actually standing in the same room as himself.  
But she was none of them, neither a commoner, nor a stranger - not in this flat.  
-Not to him.

The man seemed quite young despite his ...tired looks - she knew.  
Her face let go off the stern expression as she felt all the tension and her paranoia leave the moment he set his eyes on her.

"So you're looking for a potential 'flatmate', I heard?"  
She nonchalantly started what felt like a small talk conversation at first.  
Still not reacting to the young woman who stood in his very own place with such a confidence that should actually piss him off, the tall-ish man gave her the same blank look.

It only took the woman a few seconds to let his facade crumble as a smile crept up his usually cold face and lit up his eyes, that now were locked on her 'not so boring' presence right before him.

"You always manage to find the least suitable question in any kind of situation."

His deep voice sounded bright in her ears as he couldn't suppress his well hidden happiness.  
With a brief look up and down her frame, he made out a 'pretty' girl in neat clothes that were drenched to the core just like her being soaked to the bone with her brown hair looking even darker now that they were loosely hanging out of the braid she had so nicely put together herself.  
-Almost as dark as his black locks.

The woman now avert her gaze from him and took a look around the room, nodding to herself a bit awkwardly since she proved to herself that she had been right about the thought of a stranger having been here just a while ago.

Sherlock decide to get up and straightened his limbs as he noticed them feeling completely numb from sitting int he exact same position for about an hour.

"It's my 'flatmate' you noticed, yes."

His calm voice stated at her weird look around his place, before he continued, cutting the woman off before she could give a reply to that.

"And now come over here to save me the trouble."

It almost sounded like an order as he 'threw' these words around at his 'visitor' and stretched out his arms against any expectation you could ever have od the normally so 'cold' man.  
He didn't even earn a look of rejection at his action that any other person would normally would get in such a situation, but a rather warm answer to his welcome 'gift'.  
The look on the womans face slightly softened as she dropped her facade and literally floated over to him as gracious as ever.

"I hope he's a lot less messy than you, for your own good..."  
She muttered softly into his shoulder as she let him wrap his arms around her back clumsily.  
The woman had to stand on her tiptoes despite her heels because of their quite obvious hight difference and roughly stroked his back at the muffled snort he gave away at her cheekily 'offending' statement about the way he left his rooms.

A few moments passed in which the taller of the two just blankly stared at the wall across the room he was facing with his cheek resting on the womans hair deeply in thought.

"Okay."  
She stated.  
"Better not let anyone see this."

He nodded subconsciously and let go off her slightly damp coat that was covering her back, before she continued to end her sentence.

"Me, being completely soaked and you...well - being Sherlock Holmes and all."  
She chuckled silently and tapped his chest as he pulled away and gave an 'answer' to her frankly out-of-place statement, which actually made sence in his ears.  
"People might talk."

Her words were of no importance, really, but they'd sound much more familiar to him at a later point.

With his mind trailing off to somewhere not even he would tell, he let his gaze stay fixed on the slightly short woman in front of him who obviously didn't care to take her coat off, which had to be uncomfortably clinging to her cold skin actually.  
It just didn't seem to bother her, he figured already knowing a correct answer to that as he caught one of the loose strands of her hair and started curling it around his fingers, deeply in thought - she could tell because he tilted his head away from her.

With a brief glimpse at the clock on the mantelpiece right next to the human skull, she let out an exasperated sigh and caused the man to snap out of it and quickly let go off her hair between his long fingers.

"How long?"  
His short question made the composed look turn back to her face as she straightened her back and looked up to him.

"About one and a half."

"Until what?"

"Until I'll have to go again."

"Where?"

Now, she paused for a second since she felt like telling him would actually be quite pointless.

"Back to work."  
She admitted in defeat as she lowered her face avoiding his curious gaze on her, slowly growing into a frown that she didn't want to see on his face of all.

The last time she had been here, it had been November and she almost hadn't made it home in time to actually be able to see him during daytime because of her work. He also knew that she never talked about it, she utterly hated doing that - in fact. That was why he had never asked her about why she came home late in the middle of the night, practically every day of the week.

"Want some tea?"  
Her voice came from his right and out of his sorry excuse for a kitchen.

Making him snap out of his train of thought at her question, he turned his head into her direction and gave the younger woman a silent nod since he indeed wouldn't say no to a nice, hot cup of tea.

She hadn't even waited for his reply while she stood in front of the old-fashioned stove with her back facing Sherlock, not really caring about his yes- or no as she set up some water and already prepared two cups.  
Letting the water come to boil, she had walked over to where she had thrown her shopping bags a few minutes before and headed back to the cups with the packet of sweet tea between her lanky fingers.

On her way through the living room, she dumped the about a dozen apples into a bowl next to the coffee table and earned a look from the man who sat on his feet again.

"What is it?"  
She blankly asked after a minute of silence in which she had wandered back to the stove, readied the cups and rearranged all the unnecessary stuff - like papers- while waiting for the tea to be done.  
The younger woman had felt the mans stares on her back and didn't bother looking at him actually; she had started humming the song that had been stuck on her mind since a few days, not caring about him hearing it.

-She was already used to this.

Surprisingly, Sherlock hadn't even harshly told her to 'shut up' or 'get lost' like he'd normally do, but blankly stared at her back while 'observing' each and every movement of hers quite eagerly.

Getting back to the question she had just asked him for staring at her so obviously, he only kept quiet and left it at that as she turned around with two steaming hot cups in each of her hands while making her way over to him with careless steps.  
It was a miracle she didn't know anything over as she crossed the living room with all its rubbish lying scattered all over the floor and carpet.

Gracefully avoiding any 'obstacle' that 'hardened' her path, she balanced the cup over to his side of the coffee table and put it right between his larger hands, before she herself sat down. With a brief check whether the armchair was actually positioned good enough for her, the shorter woman crossed her legs under herself and quietly settled in front of him with an inquiring look on her pale face.

"He sat in here as well, didn't he."

Sherlock quietly nodded in response and took a sip of his tea which -to be honest- was quite to his liking.

"That only means that he's deciding on whether to move in or not."  
She bluntly continued and let a crooked smile 'deform' her lips briefly.

"He'll definitely come here again -let's say- even this evening?"

The woman was talking more to herself now - she would never ask another person so many questions at one to which she already knew the answers.  
Sophisticatedly taking another sip of her tea herself, she sank back into the soft cushions of the armchair that actually slightly smelled of his 'to-be' room mate.

-She didn't really mind.

As if that wasn't weird enough for her already, she blankly looked to one of the large windows behind Sherlocks back and watched the rain steadily pour against the cold glass.

"I might not make it home tonight."  
She coldly uttered and tore the silence.

The older man in front of her looked up only to see the woman staring blankly through him with the usual silent frown on her still face.

He knew way too well what she meant by that.  
After that, the time went on with neither of each daring to say another word while silently drinking their tea and emptily looking at the other.

* * *

"Thanks for the tea."  
The woman turned her face towards the door and closed her eyes while silently nodding it off with a neutral smile on her lips.

"I had time."  
She simply replied and gave the man standing by the window an unidentifyable look.

Sherlock didn't bother seeing her off as she gave out a soft chuckle and turned her back at him one again, before the woman wrapped her duffel coat more tightly around her waist and bluntly exited the flat with silent steps away from the -now again- closed door.

Quietly as that, the lean woman left 221B Baker Street for the second time this day, but now without actually saying a proper goodbye to the one remaining inside.  
As firm as ever, the steady feet made their way over the pavement again, while the sun had almost set already, leaving her long strides to be nothing more than an echo along the street as she was heading back to work after the warm 'welcome' the consulting detective had given her personally.

**- Chapter 2 -**

**-Introducing HER -**

**- END -**

**Took me longer to update than I had anticipated, sorry for that.  
Any guesses as to how these two 'soziopaths' might be related? Let me know ;)**

**_With my heart open wide, _A.N. ~**


End file.
